Between You and Me
by Kankokujinpoi
Summary: Kenny feels alone and tired of his everyday routine. He receives a letter in the mail from Wyoming State Prison. He's not the only one. Craig Tucker has it worse.
1. Rusted Wheel

Kenny McCormick arrives at his house a little after 5pm. Technically, the house isn't his, it's still his parents, but he pays all the bills and takes care of what little yard they have left. Not to mention he hasn't seen either parent in a few days..

It's hot summer days like these that make Kenny wish he was still in high school. If he were still in high school he wouldn't need a job to support him and Karen. If he were still in high school his friends would still be in South Park, ready to hang out. If he were still in high school his parents would get enough money from the government to make it worth their while to stick around.

In Kenny's opinion, Karen should be worth their while.

There are some days that Kenny doesn't check the mail. Sometimes he lets all the bills pile up until the corners of the envelopes stick out of the mailbox and the postage stamps begin curling due to the changing of weather from day to night. The mailman used to stack them neatly, giving him a few more days to fill up space, but now he just shoves them in, sometimes even ripping a few during the jamming process. When there are at least a few bills wet and damaged from the frost Kenny decides to check the mail.

Today is one of those days. Kenny throws his thin winter jacket over his shoulder and grabs the overflowing mess of envelopes from the middle, trying to make sure he has at least a finger on every envelope. It's like when Kenny is too tired to try to match his socks at the laundry mat, so he just quickly palms them into a pile and tries to grab the core of the newly formed sock ball.

Bills, every bill, have the same feel. Their envelopes are tightly sealed with very little width to them. This is how Kenny knows he has something in his hand other than a bill. His second clue was the handwritten print the addresses were in. Kenny never gets anything in the mail besides bills. There is the occasional court notice for his parents or Kevin or maybe a card from his grandma or Kyle, but those letters stopped coming months ago. This was neither a court notice nor a letter from grandma, but this was definitely not a bill.

Bills aren't addressed by handwriting, bills aren't sealed with open with caution tape, bills aren't addressed from Wyoming State Prison.

Kenny's thoughts immediately turn to Kevin. He's not sure where the oldest McCormick is, but he doubts Kevin would wander that far out of South Park.

No McCormicks do.

The envelope is addressed to solely Kenny, bringing him some relief that it's not his mom or dad who somehow got into that much trouble in what short amount of time they've disappeared this time.

Usually the return address is topped with the name of the sender, usually a social worker or relative, looking for money.

This sender is PM#224750.

Kenny quickly dumps the envelopes on the kitchen table as he grasps the cream colored envelope alone. He searches for his pocketknife in his pants pocket. Kenny is not allowed to carry a knife in the factory, but Kenny doesn't risk the long walk home without some small form of defense.

He doesn't recognize the handwriting on the outside, but his heart stops at the sight of the actual letter. He knows he doesn't need to read the bottom of the letter to know the writer.

If the square handwriting didn't give it away, the heading definitely did:

_Ken,_

Only one person really called Kenny Ken. That person's reasoning was that Kenny sounded too much like a little boy's name. They both knew their days of being "little boys" ended a long time ago. Even in the 5th grade when the boys ran into each other one school night at Stark's Pond. There were many other run-ins and meet ups at the Pond after that.

Kenny didn't want to believe that person was at the location of the envelope, so he read on.

_Happy Birthday. I think you had one recently. I heard fireworks a week or two ago I think, so I knew it was sometime around here. I asked Smee what the date was when he delivered lunch today and he told me February. I don't believe him. Smee is a dick head that likes to act like I'm some kind of animal that needs to stay in a cage. I guess the whole state of Colorado thinks that. Wyoming, too. Can you tell me the date? The next time Smee is out and Loretta delivers me lunch I'm going to ask her. She'll tell me, but that could be weeks from now. I'll make sure to keep track next time._

_ I can tell its summer from the size of the bugs that fly through my window. Wyoming is a lot like Colorado. The big bugs only come out in the summer. I have one window, more like a hole. There's no glass or even bars. It's so high up, I'd have to be like 15 feet tall or something to reach it jumping._

_ Sometimes I sleep standing up with my back against the door just so I can watch the stars at night as I fall asleep._

_ Remember when we went to Stark's Pond and we talked about the stars? We were high off our asses and you started climbing the tree we all jumped off of when the water wasn't freezing. That night I bet it was. _

_ When I asked what the fuck you were doing you told me you were trying to grab a star. I think about that a lot when the stars are nice enough to angle my way. Ken, you can't hold on to a star in your hand, but at least you can hold onto another plan, another day, you know?_

_ My mind is shutting off. My mind shuts off more frequently now days. There is nothing to keep it going, keep it growing. We both know how much I like not doing anything, so you might think I'm in heaven, but it's hard. Even for me its hard._

_ It's hard sitting in your cell 24 hours a day._

_ It's hard doing nothing all day._

_ It's hard to fight your thoughts. _

_ You try to drown them, you know Ken? Drown them in your sea of guilt but they keep floating to the top._

_ My toilet doesn't even have enough water to drown myself in. _

_ It's try-to-sleep time. I'm not allowed to have a candle yet, so the sun tells me when its time to try-to-sleep._

_ How are you, Ken? Please tell me you made it out of that hellhole like we both promised we would. I only hope you made it out not like me. I hope you made it out free. _

_ Write. They provide you with a stamp, so all you need is an envelope. You can steal one of those in the post office._

_ -Craig Tucker_

_ PS- I just re read this, I sound like a fucking poet, besides maybe the toilet part._

_ PSS If this isn't Kenny McCormick then Fuck You for reading this._

"_I can, tell it's, Summer, _

_ from the, size of,_

_ the bugs that fly,_

_ Through my window…._

_ …You can't hold on,_

_ A star, in your hand _

_ Though, at least you can_

_ Hold on to another plan,…"_

_ -Silversun Pickups, Rusted Wheel._

**So, I have a few more chapters written, just needs transferring to the computer and all. It feels like a good winter story. **

**Let me know what you think. Any questions you have will hopefully be answered in other chapters. I got this plan in my head, man….**


	2. Fast Car

Kenny McCormick is somewhat used to Craig's letters. The first letter he received he sat at his dinning room table, bills still in their envelopes littered the tabletop, just sitting. Karen found him late at night when she came home from a friend's house. He was still in his work clothes and still had Craig's letter in his hands. When Karen asked about it, Kenny hid it from her and made her a cheese sandwich with the block of cheese he bought last month. He made sure to scrape off the mold.

Kenny's first letter was short and awkward. He told Craig how him and Karen shared a little Debbie she brought home from school for his birthday. He tried to think about the positive things to tell Craig. He figured he had too many negative things weighing down on him, but he couldn't find the optimistic Kenny anymore. It's been about 8 months since he's officially accepted this angry Kenny that has appeared. It's been about 8 months since Craig has left.

Letters are exchanged as frequent as possible, but there are times that Kenny feels both boys know its not the same. Kenny has saved asking questions, he figures Craig will tell him what he wants him to know, that's how its always been.

About two weeks into exchanging letters, Kenny has found that Craig likes to think about South Park more than he lets on. It's the only town he's lived in, so as much as he hates it Wyoming State Prison is worse.

Only recently has he really written about people.

There are times where Kenny thinks that Craig wants to write to others, but he also thinks that if he were to ask Smee to send it to another address, Smee would say no. Craig probably couldn't bring himself to send it to the actual person either. Kenny plans on saving all the letters he thinks are meant for other people and give them out whenever he sees that person. Kenny knows they would be really surprised at what he has to say about them.

Kenny thinks he is the only person Craig writes to. In a sense, it makes Kenny feel special. His other friends have all moved away anyway, so it's not like they would ever get his letter.

Maybe that's why Craig writes to Kenny.

Kenny likes to think it's more than that.

There are letters that surprise Kenny. Ones to chef or BeBe, ones that he never knew Craig even cared about. Kenny nearly falls off his chair in the dinning room, when he thinks he sees a familiar name while opening up the 2 stapled pieces of paper.

_Ken,_

_Whenever it rains really bad here the floors get all flooded and wherever's there's divots there's puddles of murky shit water. I can hear echoes of grown men grunting because whenever it rains it's the only time our cells get cleaned. You learn to clean up after yourself when you're stuck in a room with your own shit. You also learn not to puke. _

_At night you can hear Smee's soaked shoes walking up and down the hall. He doesn't give a fuck, that Smee. I think he loves his job so much because he likes making people suffer. _

_What he doesn't know is that he isn't the one that makes us all suffer. It's ourselves. He's just there to give that extra plate of Fuck You our minds get tired of serving us. _

_Whenever it rains Smee yells that he's walking through the marshes, and every time he says that word, Marsh, I can't help but think of Stan Marsh. _

_If I could say something to Stan I'd ask him if he remembers that night on the way home from a party in Bailey. Token was our usual ride home from parties but him and Testaburger needed the whole car to themselves that night. Clyde snagged the last seat in Kyle's car, so that left me with Stan, the only other South Park kid with a car that night. I can't remember where you were, Ken, but I bet you were there and I bet you made it home. You always do._

_Either way, Stan showed up late from his football game, so he drove himself up there to meet you guys. _

_I had to pay him 5 bucks for the ride, but I got that from Clyde's pocket. It was his fault I was stuck in a car wit Stan Marsh and only Stan Marsh. _

_Really, it was Token and Testaburger's fault._

_At first we didn't really talk, but then we stopped at this four way and saw these two bulls ramming the fuck out of this cow. Swear to God, Stan and I saw a cow threesome. _

_We both looked at each other and started laughing. _

_Stan told me that's the first time he's ever seen me laugh. I tried to stop laughing, but we just came from a party, and I wasn't in my Craig Tucker state of mind. More like a Kenny McCormick one. I felt like you._

_Suddenly the horns from the cars behind us were blaring and caused Stan to jump, so he slammed his foot on the gas. The squeal of the tires seemed to make Stan cringe, it was soooo funny._

_I bet him he couldn't make it to South Park in ten minutes. In order for that to happen he would have had to drive 60 mph the whole way home. I mean even in our neighborhoods. _

_I'd ask him, 'Remember when we were driving in your car, speeds to fast felt like I was drunk? Maybe it was the Southern Comfort, too, but the wind on my face that night reminded me of a good body buzz. _

_We switched to a happy silence as I made a comment about his stupid football game. He told me he really hated it. Talked about what he really wanted to do, write. I can remember the snort I made at the comment. It sounded like snort of disgust, which was not what I was going for. I never liked hating Stan, he just really made me hate him sometimes. Hearing this dream of his, though, didn't make me hate him. He sounded normal… which was nice. I was just surprised. I guess there is no real snort of surprise. _

_I could tell I ruined the good mood, making Stan feel like a dumb ass for confiding in me like that. I felt like I had to say something, so I told him, 'I've always wanted one of those nice Lyka cameras. I could capture every emotion I can never express. Then, whenever I felt something people wouldn't think, what a fucking dick, I'd just show them a picture and they'd understand.'_

_You know how SoCo makes me feel, Ken. It was a side of me that Stan's never seen. It was my nice side. _

_When Stan dropped me off (he of course didn't make his 10-minute mark. He slowed down at the South Park welcome sign just like the puss I knew he was) he told me as I ran to my door, "You're pretty cool, Tucker. I think you'd be good at photography, you've got an eye for people."_

_For a small second, standing outside my house in the snow, Stan Marsh gave me the feeling that I belonged. A feeling that I could be someone._

_I'm actually tired. No candle yet, so it's perfect timing really. I can watch the sun go down, or at least drop 22-24 inches. _

_If you see Stan tell him, well tell him Craig says Fuck You. And flip him the good ole middle finger for me, would you?_

_ -Craig_

"_Remember when we were driving, _

_Driving in your car,_

_Speeds so fast felt like I was drunk…_

…_And I had a feeling that I belonged,_

_A feeling that I could be someone…"_

_ -Tracy Chapman, Fast Car_

**Had sequential chapters, but I think I wanna jump around a bit. **

**Thanks for all the nice reviews so far.**

**It means a lot, really :) **


	3. Sunset in July

Even though Craig's letters are just as depressing, if not more so, than his life, Kenny loves reading them. It's as if Craig knows what days Kenny really needs someone to talk to, or listen to really.

The first of the month is always a bittersweet feeling for Kenny. House payment is due, electric, water. It's a good thing the state still sends Kenny's parents their social security and food stamps, Karen needs the vitamins.

Kenny has done his best to return to the 'old Kenny' Craig talks of. You can't fake happiness in a letter. Kenny thinks things are going to look up for the McCormick household. He set up an appointment with South Park Community Bank to try to apply for a loan for a car. Kenny will settle for an old ford with hundreds of thousands of miles, but he feels like he needs to show, and give Karen what she deserves.

Kenny knows that Craig even tries to cheer him up, even from states away. There are letters that just scream cynical, sarcastic Craig. That Craig makes Kenny laugh. A single insult can cause Kenny to crack a smile.

There are other days that Craig's tone is serious and low. It almost scares Kenny to think about seeing Craig in the same room as him when his tone gets that low. The letter Kenny unfolds feels heavier than usual. The pen strokes seem deeper set into the paper, a darker shade of blue. Almost black. Kenny's premonitions are usually never wrong, so it scares him that the letter feels so heavy to him, he can barely keep it eye-level.

Craig has his days, too. When there isn't a header or ending tag, Kenny know today's letter is a rough one:

_The guy right next to my cell cries a lot when the sun goes down. I'm not really sure if he's right next to me, but it's pretty hard to hear anything through these thick concrete walls. I've asked Smee who the crier is, but he tells me there is no one crying. I can hear the Fucking dude cry Ken, it's horrible to hear. _

_Have you ever heard a grown man cry, Ken? Once my dad came home and found my mom on the phone. Could've been my aunt, my grandma, cousin, I have no idea who. All of the sudden my dad starts breaking down, crying, saying my mom was cheating on him. Can you fucking believe that? My mom has never wanted anything more in the world than my dad's happiness. He made my mother out to be a horrible whore of a woman, and for a split second, he got me. He made me think she was just as worse as he was. Made me think she deserved those beatings._

_Ruby never deserved a beating. _

_Think about how much music we would listen to when our parents fought. I'd walk out to the pond in the middle of the night in just my boxers just so I could hear the crickets over my parent's screams. _

_You can hear his lips quiver, how uncontrolled his breath is, I can even hear him trying to blink away his tears. Some nights when he cries I think I hear the sobs of Clyde Donnovan._

_Clyde was one of the only guys to visit me when I was in Colorado. He only visited me three times, but every time he'd come I could see the tears in his eyes before he took his seat. The first time he visited, he didn't even care to hold back his tears. He just busted out crying before they even set me down. He tried to pull the hand on the glass bit, but I flicked him off instead, which he took as a good response. He started blubbering and talking into the window, not the phone. I didn't bother picking my phone either, I missed Clyde acting like his mother in public. I just watched as he started fogging up the windows with his hot tears and steamy breath. After he was finished and his body was hiccupping for air I stood and made my own fog. I wrote 'I miss you too, Clyde.'_

_By that time visiting hour was over and he started crying all over again. Clyde pulled out a Handkerchief that was embroidered by his Mom. _

_I miss Clyde's mom._

_I miss my mom._

_I remember a summer or two ago, Clyde took me to his grandma Jill's house in Denver for a cook out. We both know how fun hanging out with a family can be, Ken. Don't let anyone tell you to 'feel right at home.' That's bullshit. We are the type of people that should definitely __not__ want to feel at home. _

_Either way we were in the car with his mom and dad and Clyde was sooo excited to see his "Mimi." Clyde always acted like a little kid, but you should have seen him in the car; Hopping up and down in his seat._

_I could go into detail about all of the cool toys there were to play with, or all of the nice homemade salads that aren't really salads, but we both know we would have nothing to compare it to. I just remember that after we ate (Clyde let Grandma Jill put a bib on him, a bib) the sun was going down. This was his grandma on his dad's side. Where were they from. Denmark. Holland. Germany. Either way, whatever happy little country they were from they had something called a Sunset Dance._

_They dance to put the sun happily to bed. Clyde was so excited, his mom and dad came out to the yard, even his grandma. They all had some small noisemaker of an instrument. No skill whatsoever was needed, just movement. His grandma set a pair of maracas next to me. I think she was a little afraid to ask me to join. I would never hurt any of the Donnovans. Ever. If you ever hear about Clyde getting hurt you let me know, Ken._

_When the old man cries, all I can think of is that __Sunset in July, maracas by my side._

_I would have joined, really, but I could not keep my eyes off Clyde. Here we were about to start our senior year of high school and he was dancing around like the cutest little kid. __ Watching him dancing and having the time of his life, __it was a strange feeling. It was like for a brief moment, neither one of us had to drink out of a vodka bottle or find a dime bag to split, __it was getting me high.__ Maybe that was what it felt like to be happy. Sorry, Ken, I'm asking the wrong person. What's happened to your positivity, man? I loved that about you._

_Clyde's parent's treated me like Kyle's parents probably treated you. They love you like a son, but you can't help but wonder if it's just because they feel bad for you. At the end of the cook out Clyde's grandma hugged me and told whispered in my ear, "you're a good boy, Craig."_

_I wonder if she would think that knowing I've killed two people with my bare hands. Everytime a new inmate comes in that's what they call me._

_The boy who killed two people with his bare hands. _

_Has a horrible ring to it, doesn't it?_

_I've got to go._

"Sunset in July, Maracas by my side…

…Watching you dancing and having the time of your life, and it's getting me high…"

-311, Sunset in July


	4. Six Feet Under

Kenny would have never thought that he would be using his only day off this week to drive to Denver.

Maybe if he had Karen with him they could walk around and beg for change, a little more worth while in a bigger city. Or maybe make some extra money using their 'five finger discount' their father taught them when they were little. Or if he got to see Stan or Kyle, maybe spend the night with them, hang out.

Instead Kenny finds himself standing outside of the University of Denver's Ancient Asian History Museum.

The deed was done. He's collecting himself now. He carefully picks three cigarettes put out prematurely from the large public trashcan acting as an ashtray on top just outside of the building. He lights the first half cig and inhales.

Just about now Kenny thinks Kevin Stoley is really getting the story of Craig's letter.

Craig's letters make Kenny think about a lot of things. Mostly things he wishes he could change, but knows is out of his control. Kenny dreams about seeing Craig sometimes.

There are things in Craig's letters that Kenny happily pushes aside his normal wares and reminisces with him. Not really things, more like people.

Kenny can't remember the last time he even thought about Kevin Stoley, let alone talked to the kid. It took quite a while to find him. For someone so technologically advanced, Kevin still had no part of any social network Kenny found on the internet at the library.

Facebook, Google+, Twitter even, nothing. Kevin K. Stoley was unborn to the social media world. Just the way Craig is and will always be. Kenny credits Craig by thinking either way, prison or not, Craig would not have any part of social media.

After an extremely awkward conversation with Kyle, Kenny had finally hit a trail. Instead of Kenny's usual happy demeanor he felt like Kyle, if anyone, could bring out of him, he only saw through Craig's eyes. Well, what Kenny can only imagine as his. No letter about Kyle yet. He's curious to see if these letters will progress from acquaintances of Craig to ones Craig actually cares about.

Surprisingly, they have progressed emotionally. For Kenny it was surprising to see Stan's letter so filled with happiness towards the other dark haired boy. Maybe happiness is the wrong word for that. Filled with tolerance?

Kenny often wonders if he'll ever get a letter addressed to him and about him only.

It figures Kyle, number 2 in their graduating class would know where Kevin, number 1 in their graduation class, would be hiding. After the small tip off all Kenny had to do is look up the directory for the University of Denver's Ancient Asian History Museum and there he was. Curator, Kevin K. Stoley; BA in Asian History already and working on his Master's in Asian Languages.

Just as Kenny remembered him: glasses and thick grease-black hair, a little heavy on the grease. He lost a lot of weight in the face, a healthy looking face. Not bloated by alcohol like Stan. Even Kyle had a small weight gain in just a few short years.

Kenny still can't remember talking to Kevin very much in school. It most likely freaked Kevin out to receive a handwritten letter, hand delivered by Kenny, especially with such intense content.

He figures Kevin will have questions, but it's his turn to find Kenny. He puts out his third half cigarette and starts walking towards the bus stop.

_Ken,_

_Every time an inmate has been on death row for longer than five years, they get to pick a song to play on their birthday. It's nothing special really, just an old boombox set outside of the inmates cell with their food tray slot propped open. If you've cause no trouble in the past few months then you get to hold open your food tray slot for a better listen. _

_This guy was so far away from me I had to stick my ear out of the slot to actually hear it play over the echoes of the other inmates too angry to care about what small piece of humanity they choose to give us. Either way I heard it. Music. _

_What's even better, it was a good song playing._

_The Star Wars theme song._

_That was Kevin Stoley's ring back tone in seventh grade. You don't want to know how many times I would lay in my room and listen to the ring back tone, knowing damn well that no one would answer. Instead you would get the voicemail. Not even his own personalized one with his voice, just that monotone bitch's voice. I don't sound like that woman do I, Ken?_

_The summer before seventh grade my dad basically hired me to help him and my uncle roof the Stoley's house. I remember him saying 'this'll teach you to work hard for what you want.'_

_I would spit on that sentence if I wasn't sending this to you, Ken. Utter bullshit._

_We stayed in Kevin's guesthouse. He lived where Token lives; so close to Bailey there it was stupid for either one of them to go to South Park school district, but still not quite good enough to go to Bailey._

_Still richies to me._

_We spent about a little over a week there. You were probably off getting killed by your 'friends.' Summers we never saw each other, huh Ken? There would be parties but we weren't exactly in the same crowd. Not until you realized Cartman really was a dick and Stan was an even bigger dick. You came back down to Earth. Where were you grades 6-9, Ken? What planet? What planet are you on now? Don't say hell. If you were in hell at least we could hear each other's voices through our food slots._

_I remember hating being there, partly because I wasn't ever going to get that week of what was supposed to be Summer vacation back, partly because I was working, but mostly because I had to spend every waking moment with my dad._

_You know me, Ken, I didn't give a fuck about anyone in school. Kevin was nothing bright nor dark about that trip. I don't think I had ever spent longer than a school day with the guy. From what I remember, Kevin had similar feelings about the world, so if anything I was happy to have only my father to deal with instead of some kid trying to hang out after I've worked for him. _

_We got there on a Sunday. Monday night I started sitting out on the rood instead of in the guest house with my drunken father and uncle._

_Even though that guest house was bigger than either one of our houses. Probably bigger than any house we will ever own, Ken. _

_Well any house you will ever own._

_I'll never own a house._

_I snuck a bottle of my dad's whiskey to drink. I figured the roof would be the best place to be alone. Drunken men can't climb ladders._

_Before I could get my third shot in, I felt another weight shift the unsecured shingles. There he was, Kevin Stoley, Star Wars pajama pants and all._

_For a second we both stared at each other. Reminds me of two cats fighting for their territory. How was I supposed to know that's where Kevin would go to get a few shots in before he slept?_

_I just lifted my bottle in invitation, not really thinking he would take it. He made some comment about the dangers of drinking on elevated areas, but nevertheless still took a seat next to me, accepting the bottle as he got comfortable._

_We didn't talk much the first night, but I learned a lot about Kevin that night._

_He takes off his glasses when he's drunk, he's left handed, smokes menthols, and can definitely handle his alcohol._

_When the sun rose so did we. Not a wink of sleep, either one of us, probably still drunk but silently, we went our separate ways. _

_You're probably thinking 'Why the fuck do I care about Stoley,' but just keep reading._

_I need this to be heard._

_The next night we finished my whiskey and we finally spoke. We struck a deal that Kevin would supply the next bottle. There was never an awkward moment, more like a welcomed peace. Although I can still remember thinking us talking that night brought peace to me._

_He brought Jaegermeister. You know how much I hate Jaeger…_

_Every pass of the bottle I thought, __'the Jaeger's so sweet,' but__ then I would turn and see Kevin's sloppy smile on his face. My next thought, '__if it keeps you around then I'm down.'__ So we drank. _

_We liked each other. We would hang out way before the night fell, almost immediately when my dad and uncle stumbled down the ladder, too drunk to care about what I was doing. I expected Kevin's footsteps very shortly after. __We would kick it there for hours and just mouth off about the world and how we know it's going straight to hell. __He was surprised I was so 'worldly.' He told me he didn't think I was like that. _

_That's what I liked about Kevin, he didn't seem as angry as he really was. Where I was visibly angry, Kevin held his in, held it all together. He saved his anger for his personal time._

_Saved his anger for me. _

_My record says anger issues. Dr. Angela tries to get my angry to see what I'm like. To see if I really have issues. I don't care anymore. My anger left with the last breath of my father. _

_Maybe the last breath of inmate # 2273RP back in Colorado. That sounds more like it._

_Call me deranged, but I loved that Kevin showed me his anger. Almost like he could be himself around me. The side of Kevin that he saves only for himself. At night, __in the cold he looked so fierce.__ Asians, man. They'll really do something to you, Ken. _

_One night after Kevin saw my dad give me a swift backhand to the head the silence was really thick. I remember breaking the silence. I told him, "__If not for you I know I'd tear this place to the ground." __I didn't mean his house, I just meant my life. I think he knew that._

_I wasn't embarrassed. I've always felt like people that take the time to know me deserve my honesty. Even at 12 years old I knew I wasn't for everyone, my dad cleared that up at age 5._

_You won't fucking believe what he did. He kissed me. Fucking kissed me. On the lips. Just leaned over and laid one on me._

_He was my first kiss._

_I guess I've kissed girls at our first year of girl/boy parties where we al though that was the thing to do._

_He was my first kiss that meant something._

_No, before you start thinking crazy shit, we didn't start making out or cuddling each other, we just went back to the bottle we were working on._

_I wanted to kiss him that last night I was there. I actually wanted to hug him, tight. Didn't know what else to expect since that was the extent of my physical signs of affection, but I for sure wanted another kiss._

_When we finally finished their roof It was well past dark and I knew we'd for sure stay the night again. A full day of drinking in the sun leaves my dad and uncle in definite drunken white trash mode._

_While I waited for them to make their way down the ladder my dad shoved a bottle of Jaeger in my hands. _

"_Found the empty ones in the trash, you like drinking so much you can drink this all the way home."_

_Didn't get to say goodbye._

_No kiss._

_No hug._

_Not even a wave._

_This was before caller id, Kevin just had his own phone line, and being the genius he is, recorded the Star Wars theme song as his ring back tone._

_I would call in hopes that he would answer, but he never did._

_I'm not sure what I would have done if he did answer, but at least I could try to kiss him one last time. _

_I think I heard he left for space camp or some young scholars bullshit. Kevin was placed in honor classes that year and I was in the class where they clap if you spell cow right._

_You were in my classes Ken, you know._

_They treated us like dumb pieces of shit because they knew our parents were dumb pieces of shit._

_I felt way too stupid to just walk up to Kevin and his new school clothes and glasses and say hi, wearing the same shirt and jeans from that week or roofing._

_Kevin probable doesn't remember any of that. I'm sure he holds much more important memories than me by now. That's fine, that week is twisted and extremely gay but I can't help it Ken._

_Kevin Stoley was my first love._

_There. I fucking said it._

_It only took me a book to write and a vivid memory. I can almost taste the jaeger._

_If you see Kevin, tell him I said 'hi.'_

_Thanks, Ken._

_-Craig._

_PS- If you still see Tweek…_

…_Don't tell him a fucking word that I just wrote to you._

_Its like a small chimp jumped off my back and a giant ass gorilla jumped on._

_That's guilt, Ken._

"_The Jaeger's so sweet, but if it keeps you around then I'm down…_

…_We would kick it here for hours and just mouth off about the world, and how we know it's going straight to hell…_

…_In the cold you look so fierce…_

…_If not for you I know I'd tear this place to the ground…"_

"_Six Feet Under"- All Time Low._

**WOah.**

**I guess I just needed that Cravin out of my system.**

**Thanks for your support, I have a lot of "letters" planned out, but if you would like read about a particular person, that would def. help my creative process.**

**I'm too tired to go through a second edit, so I hope this all makes sense! One day, I will perfect this…**


	5. Butterfly Effect

Kenny does not hate people.

It's funny to think he truly can't hate someone just because, from an outsider's view, he has a lot of people to hate.

He should hate his mom and dad for never giving him and his sister the proper loving childhood home they deserved. He should hate his brother for falling into the trashy rotten path his parents created for them. He should hate his friends, you know, for all the times those fuckers killed him and blamed it on someone else.

Those Bastards.

But after almost two decades of getting shit on by practically every person he has ever come close to, Kenny can't find it in his heart to hate anyone.

Even when cynical Kenny took over last year when his happy demeanor finally breathed its last breath and gave up, Kenny still couldn't find hate.

Blame, Anger, Guilt; those are all words associated with hate, very close to the meaning, but still, no hate. Kenny remembers hearing from one of his English teachers about hate and love being like one. Without loving something, one can't hate something. Kenny finds this theory repulsive. Kenny used to love his mom and dad, used to love his friends, used to love his wife.

Kenny still loves Karen. And Craig's letters.

Even when Kenny waits until midnight for Karen to come home and he has the house to himself, Kenny will pop open his dad's bottle of Jameson he left and take a few quick swigs, thinking. Kenny thinks about everything in his life that has drastically changed so much. Everything in his life that is completely out of his control and wonders if his life would have been the slightest bit different if he was dealt a different hand from the beginning.

Kenny thinks about all of the people that he thinks he would change lives with.

Tonight's bottle brings a different emotion.

Maybe it's not the bottle.

Could be that Karen hasn't called or texted him all day.

That could be because neither of them have minutes.

And that could be because collectors waste his minutes by calling and leaving so many voicemails.

Or this new emotion could be from Craig's letter he received tonight.

'Yeah,' Kenny thinks to himself, 'Craig's letter is the reason I hate Token Black.' From the tone of Craig's letter, he's willing to guess he hates him, too.

_Ken,_

_Every so many days, (weeks? Months?) a lawyer from the state stops and has a conversation with each inmate through their food tray slot. Anymore he knows to skip over my slot. The guards don't even prop my slot open for the lawyer to look in at me and try. _

_There are two words that are interchangeable with lawyer:_

_Snake._

_Token Black._

_I guess that's three words, but the last two are basically a compound word. That's what you call them, right, Ken?_

_Token was another one that visited me back in Colorado. The minute I placed that collect call to his parent's house, Token was on his way. He came in wearing a suit and tie and brought his briefcase full of legal work. He took a look at my police report and said 'I'll see what I can do.'_

_For a while Token came every Wednesday in between classes, he was in law school of course. Graduated by now._

_The first few weeks were Token telling me what my rights were and what to say and exactly how to say it so the prosecutors couldn't take my words and twist them up into my looking like some deranged kid out to kill everyone in his family._

_I would never hurt my mom or Ruby, Ken. You know that._

_No matter how much really did need a lawyer and someone on my side, I think I needed a friend the most. Not a friend that comes in blubbering like your mom would if she wasn't afraid for her life around you anymore. A friend that will sit with you in silence and let you express yourself in your way. _

_That's the way mine and Token's relationship was. He knew I wasn't one to cry into his shoulder like Clyde, or two want a tight hug like Tweek. I just wanted his presence. I just wanted someone there that cared. _

_Token and I have been friends for as long as I can remember. I can remember his parent's talking about me at one of Token's sleepovers. Said they whouls give to those less fortunate._

_Token was always like that you know, Ken. Always hosting parties and serving the nicest meals either one of us has ever had. Remember my 13__th__ birthday?_

_Token's family hosted it, catering and everything._

_I know you were there, your dumb friends ruined the ice sculpture of red racer and it fell on you. I didn't care about the ice sculpture. You died. They killed you, Kenny._

_They're bastards. _

_Forget all those birthday's, sleepovers, ragers; Token was still the best person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting, even without all that money._

_His money made it possible for him to accomplish bigger things for bigger people. _

_Something was different between Token and I. He was stiff, cold. He never asked how I felt or if I was okay, he just wanted facts. _

_He would tell me how to react to people wanting to speak with me, or once officers or lawyers left my cell Token would reiterate everything they said, as if I killed my intelligence along with my dad. I could tell from the tones of their voices things weren't looking good for me. __No college shit necessary to acknowledge it. _

_This was before I was talking. I didn't want to have to relive that night. Any night really spent with my dad was hard talking about, you know that. And with Token acting all scholarly, completely leaving the Token I knew behind, I wasn't really in the mood to cooperate anymore. _

_But I finally did it, Ken. I broke down and told him. I felt better with ever word I was forcing out. I can still hear the delusional side of my mind telling myself, 'hey, Token needs to hear the truth, the real story, he'll help me.' I told him everything. _

_As soon as I felt a small ball of warmth in my body, the look on Token's face stomped it out completely. That's when I knew. Maybe not knew specifically what set Token away from me, my case, but I knew something I said was not what he wanted to hear. _

_I was no longer a friend. I was a case. I was a case that Token found was going nowhere. _

_Token Black closed his briefcase for the last time that night. He opened his mouth to explain most likely, but I stopped him._

_I told him to just go. I told him I knew he didn't want to help me anymore, that I was fine with just rotting inside a cell. _

_Token muttered something about __Human Politics__, I was trying to block out the cold voice that I didn't know anymore. He said something about my hands, told me that with __one touch and you're gone__. Told me I was wrong for what I did._

_I didn't say anything back. I just let him leave. I didn't need any more anger in my life. Anyone else telling me what I've done wrong and what I've never done right._

_Before he left, his last words to me were __God makes man and this,__ referring to me, sitting in the corner of my cell, __this is the devil's finishing touches. _

_Did you know that Satan came to Adam and Eve in that badass Garden disguised as a snake? _

"**No college shit necessary to acknowledge it…"**

"…**but with one touch and you're gone ****so call in sick****,**

**Human Politics…"**

"**God makes man and this is the devil's finishing touches."**

**Epik High- "Butterfly Effect"**

**Been a while, running on steam here, hoping to come back in full swing soon. Thanks for reading, guys.**


	6. Human Nature

Things are looking up for Kenny.

He got a 10 cent raise at the factory, a job working third shift at the gas station down the street, and a bike. No car, but Kenny will take anything that will give his legs a rest.

The factory rings a bell around 2pm everyday signaling a break. Not really a break, though. They don't get to walk outside for fresh air or a cigarette, it's literally a break for all the workers to sit down for 15 minutes and rest their legs. You have to know someone and really trust that person to get a break long enough to smoke or eat. That person has to work twice as hard to cover your portion of the work. This is why Kenny goes without. With every worker in the factory looking for a place to sit, Kenny is lucky to lean.

The gas station break room is their old cleaning closet with enough room to fit one folding chair that the shift leader seems to be glued to. They don't allow stools behind the counter. It "makes the workers lazy."

Kenny makes it home at about 7:30am every morning. He is sure that without his bike, the way home would take at least another thirty minutes.

Sometimes when Kenny is let go early he'll walk with his bike and enjoy the sunrise. He thinks about how much his life has changed since July. Thinks about the change since Craig's letters.

Kenny could tell Craig's letters were going down a dark road. Token, even Kevin's letter gave Kenny a hollow feeling in his stomach. Kind of like that Don't Break the Ice game Kenny remembers finding in the dumpster in the 7th grade. It was the perfect present for Karen. It was just missing the little man that falls if you are the loser that breaks the ice.

Karen and Kenny used peanuts. The winner would get to eat it.

Kenny felt like Craig was his little man in the middle of the ice board. He felt that, based on his letter's, that's how Craig's mood was. He is Craig's only contact to the outside world that he is aware of. Recently Kenny has let Craig's ice get pretty thin.

The letters have given Kenny a sense of purpose. Perhaps not positivity, more like productivity. He figures that out of the two of them, Kenny still has a chance to change his future, a chance at a life of his own.

Kenny feels good about the progress he has made. Judging from Craig's last letter, Kenny thinks Craig feels good too. Perhaps not good, more like hopeful. Kenny likes to think Craig is so hopeful thanks to Kenny, but he can't forget to credit Jimmy Valmer, either.

_Ken,_

_The new inmates sent in confinement are walked to the very end of the hall. When one leaves, usually to be placed on Death Row, all of us a shifted down. It's kinda like we're all waiting in one long ass line. One long ass line to our death. I guess we all are waiting for that though, huh Ken?_

_We were all moved down the night before the new guy came. Usually just some punk that got into a fight with another inmate, 'grounded' from the luxury of their cells for a week or two. _

_The guy usually kicks and screams all the way down, trying to puff out his chest so far he'd fall over if it wasn't for the two guards on either side of him. I used to peek through my food slot, but it's like watching the same episode of a tv show you never liked to begin with, Ken. Although, we liked most any show we could watch, right? That means we had working electric. Heat and water? That was a different story towards the end of my days. _

_That's why I did what I did, Ken. Ruby and Mom needed a new life._

_I hope they got one. One with heat and water. _

_Ruby. _

_Fuck._

_Where are you to hit me in the arm with that scrawny fist of yours? _

_I mostly just listen to the footsteps. Waiting until all the hoots and hollers of everyone else dies down so I can think again. _

_Why I would ever want to think in a hell hole like this, I'm not sure. _

_You know, all the commotion when a new guy comes makes me thankful for the solitude. Thankful that they can't take my mind away. My mental strength. That's all I have now; thinking. I guess thinking about things beyond these four walls._

_Mostly people, but sometimes things; Red racer, Tacos, Ruby, Mom, Tweek._

_You._

_This guy's walk, the cause of commotion, made me think about a different person. A person I hadn't thought about in a long time. This guy had no foot steps, no fuss, no yelling from other inmates. The only thing heard were the two walking crutches the guy used to pull his body to his cell. No life in his legs could be heard._

_Jimmy Valmer. _

_That name, along with a few others, will always bring a smile to my lips. _

_Before you go thinking with that perverted mind of yours Ken, no, I didn't love him or kiss him._

_Jerk._

_Jimmy was never affected by my attitude. He was never affected by anyone's attitude, really. _

_I spotted him one night after a 'heart to heart' with my dad. I broke a chunk of ice off of a car and held it to my eye, praying that the swelling would go down and Ruby wouldn't start crying when I got home. I was just shuffling along when I heard Jimmy trying to reason with some kids that must've been a grade or two below us, only the ignorant prey on what they think is helpless. _

_I stood back and heard Jimmy throw a joke or two out, hoping for some laughs. Once I head the 'p-pp-p-pp-ple-please stt-st-stop,' I was out of my hiding place and kicking ass. _

_Really, all I did was ask Jimmy if he needed help and that gave him enough time to use his crutches to give one kid a bloody lip. The ignorant also scare easily._

_On the walk home I asked Jimmy how he got in that situation to begin with. Said those guys asked him if he wanted to take a walk when he was taking out the trash. Now, Ken, why the fuck would anyone consider taking a walk with complete strangers at night?_

_I asked him just that. He said, and I'll take out the stutters this time, 'you know Craig, at first I thought the same exact thing, but then I took a look at the sky. The stars were twinkling, or maybe the lights of the buildings in town. It was like __The City was winking a Sleepless Eye__ at me. The guys looked harmless enough, why not make some new friends? They were nice enough to invite me out on such a lovely night.'_

_That's Jimmy for you. Always looking on the positive side. _

_I wasn't in the mood for positivity, though. I was already pretty tired of hearing lectures, and that chip on my shoulder was that much deeper that night._

_I asked him how he could be so careless. Asked him how he could be so stupid to trust a complete stranger. A little more came out then I wanted. Asked how could people be so stupid, those kids, him, at the time I thought about a lot of people. I thought maybe Jimmy could give me the answer as to why my father was so stupid. _

_He did a lot of stupid things, you know that Ken. _

_Jimmy was one of the only kids to really see me so mad I had tears in my eyes. He never asked what happened to my eye, or why I was out so late at night. I felt like Jimmy always understood people in a way I could never comprehend. I wasn't a people person, Ken._

_I guess I'm still not._

_All Jimmy said was, 'the world, this city, __this town; it's just an apple. Take a bite__.' Jimmy was always giving funny anecdotes or riddles. I never understood him._

_The rest of our walk was silent. I can almost feel the fresh air on my face from that night. When we reached his back porch Jimmy gave me a hug and thanked me for rescuing him. I tried to apologize for yelling at him for no reason, but he just said, 'that's __human nature,__ Craig. The stupidity of me for taking a walk, the stupidity of those guys thinking they could get something out of me, the stupidity of your anger, it's all __human nature. __Things happen that you can't help no matter what precautions you take. You can't control people.'_

_I told him to be careful, and that he could've helped his dumb arms from following that group of guys. My anger was still talking. Told him that maybe he needs a different way of life than just jokes and riddles. _

_That's when Jimmy looked at me with the most serious look on his face I had ever seen and told me, '__I like living this way.'__ And closed his door._

_Human Nature. _

_I sat up all night thinking about that. When I heard my father open their bedroom door I thought to myself that some humans don't deserve the gift of nature. When I heard him twist the knob to Ruby's room I knew then._

_Some human's nature, like my father, doesn't deserve to be expressed. There are some things that should never be allowed to happen. Some things I realized I could control._

_I can almost breathe the fresh air in my cell here, Ken. __Four walls won't hold me tonight._

"The City winks a sleepless eye…

…Four walls won't hold me tonight…

…That it's Human Nature…

…I like livin' this way…"

Michael Jackson- "Human Nature"

**So. Jimmy was really hard since I feel like I don't have a good sense of his character. I felt a little rambly, but I've had the thought and song in my head for a bit, so when Jimmy was requested I thought this might be a good fit. **

**Thank you everyone for all the kind reviews, I'm hoping to become more consistent. There will be letters to Kyle, Ruby, even Craig's mom maybe coming soon.**


	7. Daylight

Kenny knew today would be a good day.

He woke up this morning to the sound of the garbage truck knocking over the two tin cans he set out the night before. He knew he should be mad that the cans were knocked over, once again, but he was thankful to just wake up to a noise that isn't well…noise.

Craig's letters has taught him to enjoy the little things in life. Kenny doesn't think it's just the letters. Craig has always taught him to slow down, take a minute to care about things a little more.

Of course, back in grade school, Craig certainly had a different way of showing it, but thinking about it now, Craig's crude, rude, and mean remarks really spoke to Kenny.

Kenny once told Craig that he reminded him of Kyle. Kenny can remember Craig's snort of disgust. He gets it. Cartman has constantly been the class bully and say-all since third grade, and Stan has constantly "excelled" or "Stan'd Up" for what he believed was good the for class, most always ending in some type of destruction or death.

Kenny's death specifically.

But there is no real reason for Craig to hate Kyle. Kyle was the voice of reason, the hopeful second thought for most of the adventure they went on. Kyle was different from the two stronger personalities Kenny followed. Kyle still listened to Kenny. If anything, Kyle spoke to Kenny like he wasn't some piece of trash that was always dying. When Kenny asked Craig what he didn't like about Kyle a long silence followed.

After that, Kenny and Craig finished their blunt and went for a swim, not another word was mentioned.

Getting Craig to budge on anything was near impossible. The one small victory Kenny had was begging him to try tuna. He finally placed a small piece on his saltine and took a bite.

It's still pretty unclear if Craig liked it or not.

Kyle and Craig might've seemed like an unlikely pair to a lot of their friends, but Kenny definitely isn't a normal friend to either. Neither one of them danced around the subject of Kenny and his life, but they both dealt with it in their own ways. If anything, it was the bit of cynicism in Kyle's voice he would use with Kenny and only Kenny.

It reminded him of that little bit of compassion in Craig's that he would use only with Kenny.

_Ken,_

_We recently took a moment of silence to 'remember' and to 'reflect' on the crimes we've committed. They chained us up and walked us out of our cells and lined us up facing each other. _

_Really, Ken, I have no idea if these guys are my cellmates, we've never seen each other before. _

_Paired us up and chained us together. Had us talk to one another. My guy told me its to honor some Jewish holiday or practice or something like that. No idea how to spell what we were celebrating. The type of name that when you said it, it was like you were trying to get rid of that itch in the back of your throat. _

_Really, neither one of us said anything, but that got me thinking about something else Jewish._

_Kyle Brofloski. _

_Remember that time when you told me to give Kyle a chance? That he wasn't like Stan and Cartman, but to think of him like a Jewish version of you? God Ken, now that almost made me laugh. _

_But there I was, at one of Token's parties that just everyone had to be at, searching for Clyde because it was after midnight, and Clyde after midnight turns into some sort of beast. _

_None of that werewolf bullshit, I'm talking a drunk blubbering, vomiting, mess. _

_I can find Clyde inside the house, in a room, door closed with a girl hostage that probably was down for a little freaky Clyde beast at the beginning of the night. Or I can find him hugging a bush outside next to what he thinks is the pool, but really just the dog's water dish. _

_That night, I found him on the side of the garage, facedown, ass-up and arms out. I remember pulling him up for a better look only to face a drunken Stan Marsh, handcuffed to Clyde. _

_Stan started running his mouth, slurring what he probably thought were clever insults at me, trying to get me away from him and Clyde. Not sure why or when the two were handcuffed to each other. _

_Well whatever, either way, it was hard enough taking care of a 17 year old tilting the scales dangerously close to the 300-lb mark, possessed by a demon baby that only blubbers to communicate let alone having that possessed baby demon attached to what must have been this demon baby's older toddler sister. _

_Everything out of Stan's mouth wreaked of sass and definitely some crass. I was too occupied helping Clyde puke out his to listen to what Stan was ranting about. _

_Stan must've been jealous and started pounding on my shoulder, wanting me to coddle him, like it was his turn next to get a lullaby from Craig._

_I never sang anyone to sleep ever, Ken. _

_Only you._

_You would beg and beg and beg. This demon baby must possess all my closest friends. _

…_I even miss the demon baby…_

…_anyways…_

_I literally had my hand raised Ken. Like when our dads would feel nice enough to give us a warning instead of skipping to the straight beating. _

_Who came to Stan's rescue, but Kyle Brofloski. Didn't say much to me, just helped pick up Stan, and together, we walked their inebriated ass' to the deck. Not a word was spoken between Kyle and I, just the gentle soothes that we both gave to our respective babies. _

_It was funny, I felt like maybe Kyle and I were a lot like each other like you said a few years back. We both had a lot in common. The way we could work in silence together, getting the vomit out of hair, clothes changed, head ache medicine swallowed. We both did what we were supposed to do and not a bit more. _

_There were small differences, mostly between Clyde and Stan. Clyde wanted to be cuddled and was unashamed. Stan, he had a harder time accepting how he felt, even when he was drunk. It was like he'd remember who he was, or who he thought he was and would let loose on Kyle. _

_Scream all these mean things, I could see the look in Kyle's eyes that read hurt. _

_Think about the eyes of Ruby and Karen, kind of like that._

_He would stay silent, still forcefully cleaning Stan's arms. Must've hit a tender spot, though. Stan took his shoulder from the arms of Kyle, causing Clyde and I to sway a little in their direction. Stan's water glass, filled by Kyle, was slightly spilled by Kyle. Stan raised his free arm at Kyle. I guess I could say in Stan's defense that I had no idea what he was about to do. From experience, alcohol matched with one confused "man" is never a good mix. _

_I didn't do much. I simply nudged the guy off balance and ended with a quick slap of the wrist. _

_I watched my mom do that Ruby when she would throw a tantrum for no reason. _

_I half expected Kyle to be mad, and half embarrassed. Never in a million years would I have thought Kyle's reaction would be, _

"_Thank you."_

_It had to have been near four in the morning by then. The boys in handcuffs had made themselves comfortable on the stomachs of Kyle and I. I would say that both boys weren't strangers to such a position with their best friends._

_I knew there would be no grief from Kyle. He and I shared something that night… maybe we shared an understanding of each other. _

_Once snores filled the open air, I felt myself relax a little. It had been a long night and I figured Kyle was fighting sleep, too._

"_All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day."_

_Kyle's words broke the silence. I glanced to my left and saw that Kyle had that 'wide awake' expression in his eyes. As if moments like this were the only times he got an actual minute to think. _

_I offered him a cig with my free hand and he took it, in return lighting both of our cigarettes._

_My silence urged him to go on._

"_All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day, put the pieces back together my way."_

_I knew how he felt. I'm sure neither one of us really enjoyed cleaning up one idiot alone, even worse, having another idiot to work around._

_Stan and Clyde being the idiots. _

_Kyle and I mostly enjoyed the silence that we gave each other. I got the feeling that it was hard to come by for both of us._

_Every so often Kyle would say something cryptic, not nonsense though. _

_Even though we were the only two conscious human beings around, I felt like Kyle was speaking in some type of code, some code that he knew only I would understand. _

"_You and I seek similar stars, but can't sit at the same feast."_

_My hum of agreement seemed to be enough for him. _

_Although we both somehow were enjoying the twisted evening we were having, we knew that some form of action had to take place. _

_Stan would not be exactly happy to wake up, not have a clue where he was or why he was handcuffed to Clyde, sleeping on Kyle who is sleeping shoulder to shoulder with Craig. _

_Yeah, something had to be done. _

_I watched Kyle physically think hard about how to get them both out of the handcuffs. I heard mutters of "Stan's gonna kill me!" and "Why would he do something so stupid."_

_He must not know Clyde very well._

_Thankfully, I do. I searched in his shirt pocket and found the handcuff keys, a piece of chewing gum, and two condoms. Funny. The condoms, not the gum._

_Once the two boys were separated I had Clyde in my arms baby style, Kyle with Stan's weight on his shoulders. We gave each other the slightest nod and turned our separate ways. _

_Before I let him walk away I told him he should let Stan wake up to him on his chest. _

_Told him he should let him know how he feels. Something about the way Kyle spoke to me made me feel like he needed someone to be honest with him, too._

_And you always tell me how much Stan and Kyle belong together, blah blah blah._

_Kyle started blushing and going off about Stan's dream is to become some sort of athlete, some type of leader or something. Even more blah blah blahs…._

_I decided to try my hand at the cryptic message game, "__His origami dream is beautiful, but man, those wings will never leave the ground without a feather and a lottery ticket, now settle down."_

_I wonder if he ever told Stan how he really feels…_

"All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day

Put the pieces back together my way…

…You and I seek similar stars but can't sit at the same feast…

…His origami dream is beautiful, but man, those wings will never leave

the ground without a feather and a lottery ticket, now settle down."

"Daylight"- Aesop Rock.


End file.
